Claustrophobic
by ValkyrieAce
Summary: A look into Quirrell's perspective of the possession done by You-Know-Who in the Philosopher's Stone, and the motives behind it. How would we feel if we were in Quirell's shoes? Let me know in the reviews! Non-canon, dark themes, and warning for a bit of violent imagery. Please read and review!


_Author's Note: I would like to dedicate this to davros fan! He has been a faithful and dedicated beta, always there to listen to me rant, talk about cake, and brainstorm the most intriguing of fiction ideas. I would also like to thank my beta, Kat-nee. Please read and review if you have anything to say!_

 _Warning for violent imagery._

* * *

 **Claustrophobic** by ValkyrieAce

Quirrell was a fool of a man. Desperately searching for a way to utilise the Dark Arts to prove to the world that he was more than adept in magic. It was because of this self-consciousness that he had disregarded the sheer power of You-Know-Who's poisonous tendrils of dark magic.

 _'Why is this happening to me?'_ Quirrell thought.

He truly believed that he could defeat You-Know-Who with his magic alone. He thought he knew how to handle a rebuttal against the Dark Arts. He was confident in the amount of time he'd spent pouring over any and all of the texts pertaining to the Dark Arts.

What arrogance.

You-Know-Who had easily been able to manipulate him, even in an intangible form. Offering him the solace of more power, to prove his worth amongst all the other wizards. Offering him answers to the questions he'd never been able to solve.

So long as he paid the price of his body and mind.

His will fought against the temptation of You-Know-Whos offering. It felt as though his mind was being drawn and quartered as different parts of his mind fought for a different outcome.

In the end, he'd chosen to give into the temptation. Never before had Quirrell felt so despicable.

* * *

A ring of runes covered the grounds upon which they stood. You-Know-Who floated outside the ring, while Quirrell knelt on its center. He watched as You-Know-Who lifted his wand, flicking it with precise hand movements. The runes around him glowed bright, a gruesome red light filling the air. Anyone looking straight at the runes would almost be blinded. It was powerful.

Quirrell felt the strong whoosh of air around him. He caught You-Know-Who's eyes as the glow dimmed a little. He watched as You-Know-Who mumbled a long, ancient spell. One that he didn't recognize. You-Know-Who closed his eyes and looked as though he was focusing intently on the image in his mind.

Quirrell started in surprise as You-Know-Who's body flickered minutely. He shouldn't have been, he knew. You-Know-Who's body materialised as he opened his eyes.

The last thing Quirrell noticed was the slight smirk on his lips before the pain hit him in full force.

A scream tore out of Quirrell's throat. He felt like he was being flayed alive. He tried to suppress it, only to feel blood frothing in his mouth through the torn skin of his bottom lip.

It felt as though his sensitivity to pain was increased tenfold.

The runes floated and spun around him as he writhed in agonizing torture. The runes collapsed onto his body as a final stab of pain rendered him unable to move. As his chin hit his chest, he noticed the runes disappearing into his body.

Feeling woozy and still twitching from the pain, he fell onto his side, his arms outstretched in front of him. That was when he noticed.

You-Know-Who had disappeared.

* * *

Quirrell had felt different ever since.

He'd noticed as soon as he'd woken up on the ritual site. The power he wanted was now achievable through his own fingertips. He'd gotten the push he needed. Now, all he needed was to test it out.

He unsheathed his wand and attempted to conjure a Patronus. In the past, he'd only been able to conjure a non-corporeal Patronus. Now, he didn't have many happy memories, but the joy in knowing that he was imbued with more power than he could've imagined was enough to give him the determination he needed. Were it anyone else, they wouldn't have used this memory, but for him, it was a dream come true.

Wordlessly, he used the precise wand movements to cast the spell, watching intently to see if anything happened. Out of the tip of his wand, a silver porcupine burst forth, floating through the air with its quills lying flat on its back.

The power behind the spell was overwhelming.

Out of both happiness and sadness, he let out a terrifyingly evil laugh, echoing loudly against the stone walls. Tears fell over his cheek, and he lifted his hands to wipe them off as his bloody lips pursed into a smirk.

He'd be able to show them his power now.

No one would ever cross him again.

* * *

It had taken him a while to get used to Voldemort's voice in his mind.

The first time they'd talked mentally, he'd tripped over a set of knight's armor along the hallway as he was heading towards his classroom. It had left him shaking and in desperate need of a drink.

At first, it felt as though there was never any space in his mind. He felt claustrophobic. He wasn't able to think alone, practice alone, or do anything alone. During every class with the Gryffindors, he'd have the unbearable urge to attack Harry and get his well-deserved vengeance.

Of course, Quirrell had tried to push Voldemort away, past his mental barriers.

But Voldemort, a Master of Legilimency, was easily able to take advantage of the smallest weakness and break through his occlumency shields. It had no effect on him whatsoever. With a new body and mind, he took control of it with an ease he could only imagine to grasp.

It wasn't as though his will was being broken. He'd done it on his own accord, after all. Mentally, Voldemort whispered more temptations. Of happiness in his new world. Of powers beyong comprehension. Of a high caliber position in his inner circle of Death Eaters.

And while Quirrell did try, he eventually gave into the temptation. All he'd wanted was to make his bullies see how innately talented he was. He'd spent all this time pursuing an academic interest in the Dark Arts, and he wanted to show them the extent of his education.

Slowly, Voldemort warped his mind with tendrils of evil suggestions.

Still, it was... otherworldly. To have two people sharing one mind.

* * *

Quirrell, or rather, Voldemort in his body was defeated during his pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone. Harry Potter had once again destroyed his attempt at achieving a perfect world.

His body burned like lava. He felt as though his body was slowly being soaked into a volcanic fissure. He shuddered furiously, trying to rid himself of it, only to feel his arm fall off in a pile of decimated rubble.

"No..." Quirrell muttered, tears filling his eyes at the realization of his imminent end.

"You imbecile!" Voldemort yelled, "what have you done to my body?"

There was no response from Harry, who had fallen unconscious by the Mirror of Erised. Quirrell tried to walk over to him and finish him off once and for all. But the pain. It was too great.

Quirrell collapsed over the stairs as his body started to harden. He gasped, unable to breathe in the air to survive, his lungs already feeling the full force of Lily Potter's protection charm.

After all this time, the protective charm still rages on in his veins.

He watched as Voldemort's shade separated from his body, leaving him to disintegrate without any disregard. As though he was an unwanted child destined to die without love.

He reached out for Voldemort's shade, watching as his hand disintegrated in front of him.

"Don't..." Quirrell gasped, "don't leave me, p-p-please?"

Voldemort's shade turned slightly and he was able to see the same hint of an evil smirk as during the ritual.

"You were always unwanted, Quirinus," Voldemort replied, loathing and abhorrence visible on his face. His eyes lit up with delight as he took in the way Quirrell was turning into stone.

Quirrell's eyes widened in shock as his air supply diminished even more.

 _'No...'_ he thought, _'I don't want to be alone!'_

Quirrell's clutched at his face as his eyesight started to dim. He watched Voldemort make his escape unharmed, only seconds before Dumbledore burst through the entrance of the room with his wand poised.

As his eyes closed for the last time, he had one last thought:

 _'Is this what it feels like to die alone?'_

 **Fin**

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 **Word Count:** 1,338

 **Additional Prompts:**

The Golden Snitch – Through the Universe – (word) 59. Elliptical Galaxy – imbecile

The Golden Snitch – Ollivander's Wand Shop – Spruce: Write about Quirinus Quirrell

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry – Assignment #11 – Herbology: Devil's Snare, Task #1 - Write about someone struggling with a change in their life.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry – Return of the Chocolate Frogs Card Challenge – (Silver) Write about Quirinus Quirrell.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry – The 365 Prompts Challenge – 164. Item – Wand

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry – The Insane House Challenge – 407. Word – Imbue


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